


Raising the Bar

by Qaroll



Series: The Molt Series Bonus Content [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Conversations, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Human Shed Skin, Mar Qaroll, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Slight Flirting, The Molt Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21854812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qaroll/pseuds/Qaroll
Summary: [Oneshot]The first conversation Celezar has with Jean-Luc while all the men of the Lowell Hunters are attending dinner. Celezar's boss is turning out to be quite interesting, indeed.
Series: The Molt Series Bonus Content [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573609
Kudos: 3
Collections: Stories by Mar Qaroll





	Raising the Bar

The dining room of the Cellar bustled with activity. Unlike the Memorraw's mess hall, this was a literal room made for dining in, rather lavishly decorated in comparison to the rest of the outpost. It had been a long day with a hunt that lasted through most of it. With half-lidded eyes, Celezar gazed around. This was the first time he saw all the Lowell Hunters eating at once. Not necessarily eating, but present; often, six or eight of them were gone at a time. He went over each of them while scanning the space. He had come to know his fellow hunters a bit in the short time since he first arrived.

Nicholae, who Celezar discovered was Jean's uncle, was speaking with Gulliver. Both were two of three veterans in the group. It wasn't as easy as it seemed, living to make twenty years as a hunter, let alone ten. It was easy to die young in the business. Both were also missing parts of their bodies from inhuman attacks. Nicholae had a black eyepatch over where his right eye should be and Gulliver wore an expensive prosthetic in place of his right leg. No one said making it to be a veteran didn't come with risks.

The twin brunets, Lucas and Robin, were laughing at something. They joined when Celezar did, so they were still familiarizing themselves with the group. Thus far, they seemed to be doing well. Across from them sat Butch, a man who was normally very quiet. This time, however, he was laughing at something with the twins, his boisterous bass laughter booming in the room. He was known for wielding a massive battle-axe in place of the traditional sword. Celezar was impressed a human could so easily lift such a weapon, but humans were once more commonly known for what some could call "superhuman" abilities.

Beside Butch was Hugh, who was speaking with Raphael. Raphael was a quirky one. For one, he had a sort of knife fetish, as he was always carrying one and playing with it between lithe fingers. To prove this was accomplished after much trial and error, the man's fingers were covered in scars. He was also nicknamed Hawk for his impressive eyesight. Marvelous hazel eyes with a yellow shine briefly scanned about the room before returning to the conversation with Hugh.

Celezar vaguely wondered if there was some inhuman in Raphael but wasn't curious enough to find out.

Hugh was also a normally quiet one, but in a different way. There were times when he seemed depressed, and Celezar had risked a glance into his mind, only to retreat shortly after. The man lost his wife, Jean's younger sister, to an inhuman attack. She was pregnant with their child. The perpetrating inhuman was never caught. Celezar had sighed despondently, wishing he never knew.

Getting up for another plate of food were Trevor, Friedrich and Musa. Friedrich was the last veteran and was also Jean's uncle but from his mother's side of the family. Celezar didn't like him. He was too stringent, too set in his ways about inhumans and how to deal with them. Fortunately, to offset that was Musa. Musa was previously from a group of hunters who worked with inhumans, but he wisely kept that ideology to himself. Why he was in a group such as the Lowells was beyond Celezar.

Trevor was the head technician. A bespectacled man, he was another with set ideas about inhumans, except Celezar was sure he could be swayed otherwise. When he sat back down, it was beside Verne, an older man who had only ten years under his belt as a hunter due to never initially intending to become one, himself. Apparently, he was already a well-known doctor when he encountered an inhuman. He then vowed to aid hunters and learned how to fight inhumans while doing so. Celezar liked Verne. He was observant. Painfully observant. Celezar would have to watch out for him.

Closer to the front end of the table sat Artie. He was second-in-command of the group after Jean and was also his cousin. He was just one year older than the twins, much to Celezar's surprise. Ventures into his mind revealed he had some insecurities about himself. Celezar felt this was largely because of the positions his father, Friedrich, and cousin had. Artie took after his father; he was another one painfully set in his ways about inhumans.

At the bar counter beside the banquet table sat Calvin, an avid drinker. He was a strange one. It was told to Celezar to never, _ever_ bother him when he was asleep. A peek into his mind revealed he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder from his first encounter with inhumans, which was perfectly understandable. Celezar didn't want to know anything more about it. Calvin wore glasses but didn't actually _wear_ them often. He was also very amicable, social and keen, and had taken a liking to Celezar. This was fine, as Celezar felt the man could be a good friend in the future.

And lastly, there was Jean, sitting at the head of the table. Quiet. Observant. A small, fond smile was upon his face while he watched his men interact. There was sadness in his smile. Of all the men, Celezar didn't venture into his mind, yet. His leader was proving to be an interesting man, and he wanted to keep it that way. Jean's apparent interest in him was one reason. Celezar could tell there was some particular reason this was so, some preference the man had. Celezar was looking forward to finding out what, exactly.

He took a drink of his ale. The steins used in the outpost were large, enough so that one serving could get most of anyone drunk. Why they were so large was probably to dissuade anyone from drinking more than that. More than halfway done with his, Celezar could feel the buzz in the back of his head signifying he was close to intoxication. Briefly, he closed his eyes, cracking a smile. He looked around the room again, catching Jean looking at him. Acting to not think anything of it, he continued looking about.

"Celezar."

His gaze returned to his leader. The man beckoned him to the empty chair at his right.

Raising a brow, Celezar moved his chair back and stood. Bringing his stein with him, he sauntered over to the chair and sat heavily in it. "Why aren't you drinkin', Boss?" he asked with a smile. "Haven't seen you so much as have a sip."

Shaking his head, Jean responded, "I have a low tolerance. It almost killed me, once."

Lifting his stein, Celezar's eyes widened. "That's intense! You must've drunk a hella lot!"

"For me, yeah."

Humming, Celezar took a long drink. He felt Jean watching him. Exhaling, he lowered the empty stein. "I'll drink for you, then."

Jean made a short laugh. "I take it you don't plan on hunting, tomorrow?"

"Yep. Gonna sleep through breakfast. Gonna wake up at lunch." Celezar shrugged. "Anyways, it's no guarantee for a hunt in the morn."

"True." Electric blue eyes observed him. "You seem to have a decent tolerance."

"I do. Probably not a good thing. Alcohol, y'know?" Celezar looked over at the bar. "So...I noticed some men went to the mainland, yesterday."

"Mm hm."

"That done often?"

"Yes, when there's enough able men left behind to go on a hunt." Jean sat back in his chair. "So long as I know you're leaving, or Artie knows, or Friedrich, or Nicholae, et cetera."

"Ah."

"Why? You plan on taking a trip, tomorrow?"

Chuckling, Celezar rested his head on a propped-up hand. "Sort of. Kind of. Perhaps. Never been to the shoreline over here." He smiled languidly, looking at his leader. "Just to get a look-see of the place. Explore a bit."

Nodding, Jean shrugged. "Why not. This place isn't a prison. You're free to go where you want."

"Don't you ever go out?"

"To the mainland?" He shook his head, staring forward. "Not often. Not as often as I should, maybe. I coop myself up in here, more often than not."

"Huh. There anything to do on the mainland?"

"Plenty. We normally go to Connecticut. There are theatres, the beach, bowling..."

"Theatres sound good. Haven't...seen a movie in a while..." Celezar sat with his eyes closed. There was shifting, but he didn't pay much mind. "So, Boss. Have I lived up to my reputation of bein' worth two men, yet?"

It had been maybe four days since he joined. Not that much time, but he did wonder. Since then, he had participated on two hunts. He doubted anyone noticed he was showing off during the first one.

"Maybe."

"Aw. That hurts me deep."

"You'll live."

He chuckled, opening his eyes a bit. Jean had a minute but slightly lopsided smile on his face. Celezar hummed, breaking into a grin, then shrugged before moving sideways to stand from the chair. "I'll just have to prove myself, then. Just to you, Boss."

Jean stared forward, his small smile holding. "You do that."

Saluting, Celezar grinned. "Yes, sir."

The resulting glare given to him after that was worth it, and he laughed while walking back to the bar.


End file.
